


Surprise: Pottery

by midnightecho



Series: Surprise [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightecho/pseuds/midnightecho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds Cas having a go at the production of pots and ends up having a go himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprise: Pottery

The motel room’s lounge looked different through the window than it had when Dean left. As he paused and looked closer, he realised it was because all the furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room. He could just about make out, through the streaked, grimy glass, Cas sitting in the centre of the room with his back to him.

The hunter sighed deeply and wondered, with a sense of growing dread, what the angel had been up to while he was out.

The door creaked open, but Cas didn’t look up; he was much more focused on the spinning tile before him. Frowning, Dean set down his bag and walked over, taking in the scene before him.

Cas sat hunched over a pottery wheel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and one foot stuck out to the side over an acceleration pedal. The angel stared intently at the clay in his hands as he pushed the pedal under his foot gradually further to the floor, adding more clay and water as he needed. His tongue stuck out between his teeth in concentration, and Dean couldn’t help but smile at his adorable Focus Face.

He made himself look away before he caught himself staring stupidly and noticed for the first time multiple attempts at pots dotted in a semicircle around the angel’s station – he hadn’t noticed them before as the dirty brick colour so well matched that of the old motel’s carpet. There was a vague progression of quality from left to right – from a misshapen blob with a dip in the middle, gradually taking form to a respectable pot. The clay on the wheel was taking an even greater form, more adventurous in height and complexity. Dean watched fascinated as Cas gave it a final smoothing of water then produced a clay-clotted length of string from beside him, gently drew it under the pot and placed it on a coaster on the floor in line with the others.

At last, he looked up at Dean. Cas seemed mildly surprised to see the hunter sat before him leaning close, as though he had been so consumed in his work that he hadn’t even heard the door, but he smiled warmly at his friend.

“Hello, Dean.”

The hunter smiled back. “Pottery today, huh?”

“Pottery,” Cas nodded. “It’s wonderful, Dean. Down here I have the time to try things I’d simply never thought of trying or had time to try when I was in Heaven. There’s no civil war to worry about, no quarrels between kin. It’s nice just to feel... human.”

Dean had nothing to say to that. He personally had never found human life particularly preferable; no special powers, always being the underdogs, usually having little purpose to life. But something in the way Cas said it, with such wonder and appreciation, made him reconsider.

“Would you like a turn?”

Dean looked up at the angel, confused. “What?”

Cas gestured to the pottery wheel.

Dean only laughed. “Thanks but no thanks.” The older brother had never been keen on keeping hobbies and pottery was not about to be his first.

Cas looked mildly offended and cocked his head at his friend.

Dean stopped laughing and stared disbelievingly. “Are you serious?”

The angel didn’t relent, so Dean reluctantly shuffled closer so he could partake.

“Now,” Cas began as Dean readied himself. “Dip your hands into the water,” He instructed. Dean reached into the bucket of cloudy water beside him and Cas retrieved another hunk of clay, plopping it onto the wheel. When he saw Dean’s hands, fingers barely dripping, he gave a low chuckle.

“Oh Dean, you’re going to have to get wetter than that.”

The hunter swallowed thickly and submerged his hands fully into the water then held them awkwardly over the wheel awaiting further instruction.

“I’m going to start slowly, so you get used to the feel of it,” the angel continued, giving Dean an earnest look as he pressed down gently on the pedal. He had to be doing it deliberately, Dean thought to himself as he felt a heat in his cheeks.

As the wheel began to turn he made himself focus on the task at hand as he began to smooth the clay into a decent shape – which was a lot harder than it looked. Dean had to try extremely hard to get the blob upright, let alone shapely. After a few quiet minutes, with the mechanical turning of the wheel the only sound in the room, he’d gotten used to the motion so the speed slowly increased, and soon he had a vaguely respectable dish-like shape. He lifted his hands briefly to admire his creation with a fond smile and a sense of immense satisfaction – he might even have said the process had been fun.

But after a moment of continued spinning the shape began to warp –

Cas’ clay-encrusted hands were on his, guiding them back to the slightly misshapen dish. He had almost forgotten the angel was there in his moment of pride and cast a thankful smile at him. Cas returned it before adding more water. Dean felt the clay become slippery beneath his fingers, which brushed lightly against Cas’ at they both worked it into a wider shape. The angel merged another piece of clay into the side to strengthen it, then a little more, and for a while they sat working together, until Cas slowed the wheel to a stop and they both gazed happily at the vase-like item they had managed to produce.

After a long moment of admiration, Dean look up at Cas and said, smiling, “I think that’s the best one yet.”


End file.
